Six Inches
by Gypsy Love
Summary: Johnny's point of view when he killed the soc.
1. Chapter 1

I shook Pony awake once I woke up and realized how late it was. Darry would kill him for being out so late, I knew that.

"You better get home," I told him, "I'm gonna stay all night out here, like anyone will care anyway,"

It was freezing, and I curled up into myself on the bench before Pony took off, and I heard him running home. I would have gone with him, usually, but I knew he might get yelled at or worse and I didn't really want to be there for that. I hated it when people were at my house when it happened to me.

It was hard to get to sleep with it being so cold and all, but I was nearly asleep when someone slammed into me. I thought it was my old man at first, then maybe the socs that we pissed off that night, then I realized it was just Pony.

"C'mon, Johnny, we're running away," he said, crying and starting to run. I got up and ran with him, what the hell. He was crying, both of us out of breath when we finally stopped, and I knew Darry had screamed at him and maybe hit him before he even told me.

"I think I like it better when the old man's hitting me," I said, "at least he knows I'm there," Pony, man, he didn't get it, how good he had it. His brothers really cared about him and worried about everything he did, worried about where he was and everything all the time. I didn't have that. I'd never have that.

He wanted to walk to the park and cool down so I went with him, smoking a cigarette and freezing my butt off. Maybe I would go home with him now that Darry yelled and everything. It would be fine now, and at least his house was warm. I rubbed my arms through my thin jacket, and I could see our breath.

We were sitting on top of the jungle gym when we saw the car, that blue mustang. That was the car I'd seen that day in the lot. That guy tonight, the drunk one, Cherry's boyfriend, he was the one who beat me up that time. I hated that guy. That ring, those rings he wore. I touched the scar that was on my cheek. They got out of the car, five drunk socs. We were dead.

In the moonlight I could see the light shining off those rings, and I saw the silver flask he was drinking from. I felt tense, I felt adrenaline starting to slam into me. This wasn't fear. It was something else.

"Let's take off," I said, and it wasn't cause I was scared, not exactly. I didn't want to be here.

"Naw, here they come," Pony said, so we waited it out. It didn't matter what they said and what we said. They were gonna kill us. Why we waited for them to get to us was beyond me, but when the talk was over we took off. I ran one way and Pony ran the other, maybe we were trying to confuse them. They were all older than both of us and bigger, and drunk. I felt the knife that was in my back pocket. I'd use it if I had to. I'd use it.

I ran but they were right behind me and one of them grabbed me and shoved me to the ground, knocking the wind out of me. Before I could even begin to get up one of them, or maybe the same one, kicked me right in the stomach. I groaned and curled away, and all I could think of was that time in the lot. That time, man, one of them was holding me down and the guy with the rings was pounding on me. My nose was bleeding and my lip was split and bleeding all over my shirt and I didn't even feel the cut on my cheek, the wide open gash that was bleeding all over my jacket and the ground and the soc's fist.

"Stay down, pal," one of them said to me, and I turned over but I couldn't get up yet. My stomach felt like it was trying to twist inside out, waves of pain were doubling me up. It would have been a good time to run but I was dying, I couldn't move.

"Johnny! Johnny, help me!" Ponyboy. None of them were near me, and I sat up, the pain finally subsiding. All the socs were around Ponyboy at the fountain, shoving his head under the water, laughing. That was the worst, maybe. That laughing.

Maybe everyone has a breaking point. Maybe I'd had enough of all this. My old man hitting me all the time, my mother screaming at me. That's what they did when they weren't ignoring me. Then the socs, always having it out for us and for what? Because we didn't have as much money as they did? But I hated them. And that time I got beat up in the vacant lot, it did something to me. I could barely remember it in this funny way. I knew it happened, I saw that scar every day and remembered it, but it wasn't normal. Dally says I almost died, or that he thought I was dead or something. I blacked out in the whole thing and they probably kept beating me, maybe they were trying to kill me, or maybe they were just too drunk to stop.

Pony wasn't struggling as much anymore, and they were gonna drown him while I watched. They would because they were drunk and they were privileged and nothing they did mattered, and we didn't matter. That's how it was.

So I got up and pulled that knife out of my back pocket and flipped the switch and it popped out, all that stainless steel. Six inches. It would be enough.


	2. Chapter 2

Pony was hardly moving at all now and I thought he might be dead, then I saw him move. He struggled and came above the water, gasping for breath. I had the knife in my hand behind my back, and none of them noticed me. God, were they drunk. I could smell it. It was whiskey, like my old man drank sometimes. I hated that smell.

It was that same guy with the rings, the one that beat me up, he was holding Pony by the shirt collar and dunking him in the fountain. It's funny, you know, the way you think at times like that. Time slows down. Everything was taking so much time, but at the same time it was going so fast. It was like it already happened, like I was watching a movie or something. There was all kinds of shit going on in my head behind this kind of nothingness. The smell of that whiskey coming off of those socs in waves, making me think of my father and how he gets when he drinks whiskey, and I was thinking of that time in the vacant lot cause I could see that soc's rings as he held onto Pony's shirt. And I had to help Pony, there was no one else, but there never was. When I was at my house and my old man was hitting me with that belt or just pounding on me, there was no one there to help. When the socs beat me up that time no one was there or around to save me. So I got this switchblade cause I finally figured out that I'd have to save myself.

That water in the fountain was freezing, it had ice over it when we got to the park. Poor Ponyboy, he was frozen. I guessed they wanted to kill him since he was talking to Cherry, and before she went with them she pulled Pony aside to talk to him some more. Two-bit had been talking to the other girl and I wasn't really talking to any of them, so maybe that's why they weren't trying to kill me right now. Didn't matter anyway. Before any of them knew I was there I plunged that knife right into that soc with the rings, right in his back through a space in his ribs. He made this noise, like a smothered gasp, and he stiffened and straightened up, letting go of Pony. Blood was seeping from where I'd put the knife into him, and it was so dark in the moonlight, it looked maroon.

He looked at me with this drunk stunned surprise, and I watched the blood spread, and it came up out of his mouth, and I felt kind of sick. All the other socs ran, they ran for their car and took off, and this one I stabbed he fell to the concrete and the blood spread around him there. But I couldn't think of him now. I had to get Pony. He was soaking wet and still underwater and I pulled him out and he spit the water out of his mouth and I sat him near the edge of the fountain. He wasn't awake, but he wasn't dead. This soc, though. He was still bleeding and looking at me with this pleading look, and I looked away.

Then it started to sink in. I sat down, my back against the fountain, and I held my knife in my hands. It was all covered in blood right to the hilt, and my hands were covered with blood, too. I wiped them off on my jeans, and I watched over these two. The blood was gurgling out of the kid's mouth and still spreading beneath him. Jesus, I must have punctured a lung or some artery or something. He was gonna die and I'd be in so much trouble. I squinted my eyes shut, getting a headache. Cops, jail, the electric chair. But worse than all that, I killed him. I killed somebody. There would be no getting over that, no way to fix it.

It seemed like a real long time, me just sitting there, taking these shaky breaths, Pony passed out next to me, the soc bleeding to death. Everything would change, everything was changed just in that instant. I wouldn't go back home or to the neighborhood. I'd have to take off somewhere or go to jail, and I couldn't imagine going to jail. I'd heard enough horror stories from Dallas about jail.

Everything was changed. I'd killed somebody, and how was I supposed to live with that? What was wrong with me? I mean, they were drowning Ponyboy and I didn't know what to do, that's what I'd tell Pony later, but was that the truth? I knew what to do. I killed that kid, that boy.

I thought the soc was dead, or close to it, and Ponyboy was starting to stir. He coughed out some more water and shivered and sat up, and I was sitting there holding that knife. I was jealous of Ponyboy in that moment, cause he didn't know what I knew. He didn't know I'd killed that kid and that nothing would ever be the same.


	3. Chapter 3

I half thought the cops would come any second. Wouldn't those socs go and call them? But I couldn't do anything about that. I was frozen in place, watching that soc die. I did that, I killed someone. I was starting to freak out in my head, but I had to pull it together. If Pony woke up, when he woke up, he wouldn't be able to help or nothing.

He started to wake up, and that soc hadn't moved for awhile. I guessed he was dead. Dead. And then Ponyboy turned over and sat up, staring at me with this lost kind of look. I was shivering, and it wasn't all from cold. I just kept looking at all the blood that was on my knife.

"I killed him. I killed that boy," I told Pony, confessing it. I had to own it, you know? It didn't matter that they were gonna kill Pony and beat me up, somehow it didn't matter. There would be no way to get over this. I was stuck with it. I was a murderer. Even Dally had never done nothing like that.

After Pony was done being sick he looked at that kid like he couldn't believe it. I was having trouble believing any of this. My life was basically over at 16.

"You really did kill him, huh Johnny?" he said, and I nodded.

"Yeah, but they were drowning you, they might have killed you. They were gonna beat me up," I said, wiping the knife in the grass, trying to get the blood off of it. But I knew it could never come off.

"Like," Ponyboy said, and swallowed hard, "like they did before?" he said, and I kind of sucked in my breath. He was talking about that time in the lot, and since that happened no one has mentioned it.

"Yeah, like they did before," I said, and they were gonna kill me after they killed him. They were so drunk and so mad, I mean, they would have killed us. I had to kill that kid, I had to. I had no choice.

Maybe I wanted the cops to come. Maybe I wanted to be hauled off to jail since I deserved it. But I couldn't go. I hated cops like we all did, but I was afraid of them, too. I hated the cops cause they were always busting us for stuff even if we didn't do it, even if the socs did it. But the thing was the socs had their rich parents to make everything okay for them. Their parents were judges and lawyers and business men and all that. Us greasers didn't have that. Pony's parents were dead. My parents were drunks. So were Dally's. No good dead beats, all of them. And most of us would turn out the same way.

Pony was freaking out. Yelling and everything, talking about the electric chair. I sighed. I'd get it for this, of course I would. But I didn't want to go to jail, and I didn't want to deal with cops or nothing like that. I knew how we could get out of this. There was only one person who could help us anyway.

I grabbed Ponyboy by the shirt collar and shook him until he calmed down.

"Alright, I'm alright now," he said, shaking loose from my grasp, but he was calmed down. He still looked pretty wrecked, and I knew I did, too. Everything was unreal. That's what happened when one event split everything into before and after.

"Let's go see Dally," I said, and saw the relief on Pony's face. He was supposed to be the smart one, Ponyboy. He sure was smarter than me. The truth was I could barely read. I mean, I could read, but not good. There were a ton of words I didn't know and some that I did know I still had to sound them out, and the letters would get all jumbled up. It was awful. I never read if I didn't have to. But Pony would read these novels and books and everything so fast, and he'd remember everything in them, too. But he wasn't that smart when it came to street things, like what to do. He never would have thought to go to Dally if I wasn't here. If he had killed that kid alone he would have just sat here until the cops came.

He didn't know where Dally was, and that's like how he ain't that street smart. I knew where Dally was just in case I needed to know, which we did now. So we took off for Buck's to find Dally and a way out of this mess.


	4. Chapter 4

I kept thinking the cops were after us already, I kept looking back over my shoulder. Maybe they didn't know yet. If we could just get to Dallas before the cops got to us, then maybe we'd be okay. I was pretty worried about this whole thing, but I was keeping cool. Ponyboy, though, he wasn't exactly keeping cool.

He'd never been to Buck's place, I knew that. Darry and Soda wouldn't let him near the guy. I had no rules like that. I had no one who gave a shit, really. Not anyone who could tell me what to do like that, so I'd been to Buck's before with Dally.

I could hear the music like a mile away from the place and it was awful. Hank Williams shit. And I could hear all the drunk people, and I just hoped Dal wasn't drunk, or at least that he wasn't too drunk to help us.

We finally got through Buck to Dally, and he showed up at the door looking half asleep instead of drunk. I was kinda worried that he'd be mad at me cause I told him to leave those girls alone. I'd really never told him anything like that before. I knew he wouldn't hit me, not like he would the others. But it wasn't that. Usually I didn't, I didn't want to tell him what to do. There wasn't a need to. It was just, the way he was talking to those girls, it was making my skin crawl. So I had to tell him to cut it out whether he got all pissed off at me or not.

"What do you kids need me for?" he said, and I felt like I didn't even want to drag him into it. It was bad enough Ponyboy was all involved. But there was no choice. I had no choice.

"Johnny killed a soc," Pony blurted out, and I sucked in my breath when he said it. I looked at Pony. He was crying, his face all scrunched up, and I realized he was only about 13. Jesus, he was practically a little kid. What was I doing?

"What?" Dally said, and looked at me real funny. It was like he couldn't believe it, but it was more than that, it was this worried look. He looked real worried, like he would cry, too. But that look was there for just a second, and if I hadn't been looking right at him I would have missed it. I felt funny, kind of. Then the look went away and his usual bored, tough look was in its place.

"Good for you," he said, and then he grabbed Pony by his dripping wet sweat shirt and dragged him inside, and he motioned for me to follow them. I followed Dally up the stairs to the rooms that were up there, it's where he usually stayed, I knew that. But Ponyboy didn't and he started to go into the other room with all the loud music and the drunks, and Dally had to grab him again and pull him toward the stairs.

We were up in his room and he looked at Pony all disgusted, but also kind of how Darry looks at him.

"Ponyboy, are you wet? Jesus, running away in just a sweatshirt, and a soaking wet one at that? At least Johnny has his jean jacket. Don't you ever use your head? Wait here," he said, and left. I sat on the window sill wishing like crazy for a cigarette. Pony was sitting on the bed, wrapped in the moth eaten towel Dally had thrown at him before he left. He was shivering and crying and I could barely look at him. It was hard to keep it in my head that maybe I'd saved him from getting drowned in the fountain. All I could think of was that I killed that kid. I killed him and he was lying at the park dead.

Dally came back with a clean dry shirt for Pony that was way too big, but he put it on and buttoned it up, still sniffling. I watched them, watched Dally shake his head at Pony. Dally thought Ponyboy was so young, like just a kid. Just Soda and Darry's younger brother. I thought he was kind of young, too, but he was my buddy. He was in the same grade as me, which was kind of awful because I was three years older than he was. But I knew that he was real smart in this weird way. It was like he always thought of stuff, thought of what it meant and stuff like that. But he fell apart when shit like this happened, like that time he got jumped. That was just like two days ago, but those guys didn't even really do anything to him.

Dally gave him his leather jacket, too. I was biting my nails sitting on the window sill. I felt so nervous, like I couldn't keep still. It was getting all mixed up in my head. I kept seeing that dead kid, the way his body was sprawled out on the cement at the park, the way the blood was spreading around him. I kept thinking about the cops, and what they'd do to me and Pony if they caught us. I shuddered, got up, paced around the room.

"Here," Dally said to me, handing me a roll of money which I stuffed into my jeans' pocket, then he handed me a gun. I watched Dally light a cigarette, then he grabbed the collar of my jacket and pulled me toward him.

"Listen," he started, but I felt like I could barely focus, I could barely listen. Every time I closed my eyes I saw that dead kid at the park.


	5. Chapter 5

I listened as best I could with all the other shit going through my head. Dally said there was some abandoned church on Jay Mountain in Windrixville. I thought about how I'd never even left Tulsa, never even left our neighborhood. How could that be? But there was no where to go, I guess.

Dally followed us to the door and told us to get going, then he ruffled my hair and said in this soft voice, "take care, kid," and I saw that look again, that real worried look, like maybe he was just as worried about all this as we were, maybe even more.

It was so dark, and it was even darker at the train tracks. I could feel the gun tucked into my waistband, the cold metal against my skin. I wouldn't be able to use this, not now. No matter what happened, I wouldn't be able to kill anybody again.

I saw the empty train car and pulled Ponyboy up into it with me, then I put my arm across his chest to keep him in the shadows while they checked the cars for stowaways. The men checking the cars walked on and I let out my breath as I slid down the wall, feeling exhausted all of a sudden, the adrenaline that slammed into me at the park finally letting up.

Ponyboy leaned against me and almost immediately went to sleep, but not me, even though I was so tired. I had to stay up and make sure we got off at the right stop, but the rocking of the train wasn't helping me stay awake. I stared out into the scenery rushing by. Tulsa was behind us pretty fast, all the buildings and the lights and the sounds of the traffic. There were these dark fields and some woods, and I just peered into this darkness, felt Ponyboy's head on my shoulder, but soon enough his head was on my legs as he fell deeper asleep.

I felt real guilty about bringing him, because he didn't do nothing. He didn't kill that kid. I guess I just didn't want to go alone. But it wasn't fair for me to bring him along, and plus he was so young, and Soda and Darry would be all worried. There was no one to worry about me. I mean, yeah, Dally and Two-bit and Steve and all, they'd worry, but it wasn't the same as it was with Pony. His brothers worried because they were responsible for him. My parents didn't give a shit about me. No one who was responsible gave a shit, so it would have been okay for me to go alone, better maybe. I just wasn't up to it.

When we got to the stop it was getting light, and I felt like I'd been awake forever. I shook Pony awake and made him jump out, and we both landed in the wet grass. My legs were asleep, he'd been lying on them the whole damn trip.

"Damn it, Ponyboy, you put my legs to sleep," I said, rubbing them, "I barely got off that damn train,"

"I'm sorry," he said, and he looked so young, so sleepy and so scared, "why didn't you wake me up?"

"It's okay, I didn't want to wake you up until I had to," I told him, feeling bad I'd snapped at him.

I told him to go and find out where Jay Mountain was. I couldn't go with him, I could barely walk. I kind of thought if I did go whoever we asked would know who I was, they'd know I killed that kid at the park last night, they'd call the cops. That was silly. The story wouldn't be in the paper yet. And I sent him cause he didn't look like as much of a hoodlum as I did. He really did look young and like a kid, whoever he asked would think he's some farm kid playing some crazy game. If they saw me with my long black hair all greased back and falling in my eyes and my ratty old jacket and black T-shirt God knew what they'd think. So it was better that he went.

I was so tired. This was the first time I'd been alone since I killed that kid, and being alone was worse. There was nothing in between me and the fact that I did that. There was no getting over this, there was no way to go back. I started thinking about the kid's parents and friends and his girlfriend. Shit. Shit. This was awful. Yeah, he was gonna kill Ponyboy, I mean he was gonna. And he was the one that beat me up that time and after Pony was dead they were gonna do it again but I probably wouldn't have survived this time. So what choice did I have? Should I have let them kill us?


	6. Chapter 6

Pony came back, and just in time, too. I couldn't stand to be by myself with my thoughts anymore. I could never have done this alone. I'd go crazy.

"Did ya find out where it is?" I said, looking at him. He really did look like Soda.

"Yeah, I ran into some farmers, told 'em I was playing army," he said. Army. Jeez. Some feeling was finally coming back into my legs, and I stood up, my jeans kind of wet from the dew. I brushed them off.

"Alright. Let's go," I said.

I'd gotten to that point that is beyond tired. It wasn't the first time I'd stayed up the whole night. My parents, they fought something awful. When I was younger they'd keep me up all night with their fighting, sometimes. It was awful, too, because any minute they could come into my room and start hitting me or something. Well, my old man. That belt would leave his waist so fast, it made this sound, you know, like leather cutting through the air.

Being up for this long kind of felt like being drunk. I didn't drink that often cause of my parents, not that they'd care, but just that I didn't want to end up like them, married to someone I hate, hitting my kid all the time. I didn't want that. But of course I've drank. Everyone in our neighborhood drank.

It took longer to get there than we thought it would, and it felt like I was dragging myself up that hill, mountain, whatever. Then at the top of it we see the church looking like it's about ready to fall down. Pony stared at it and kind of shuddered. I closed my eyes. It was so bright. I felt like I could fall down right here and sleep forever.

It was all boarded up and we had to tear these boards off, and these huge rusty nails came out of that rotting wood easier than you'd think. It was all dusty and cobwebby inside, and the pews and the alter was all falling down. I didn't care. It was better than sleeping outside in our neighborhood, which I did a lot actually. In all kinds of weather, too. When my old man was drinking it was just bad at my house. It was just better to not be there.

I laid down on the little step thing that lead up to where the alter was, and Pony laid down on the floor of the church right by me. I was like sucked into sleep, it was kind of nice, you know? I don't usually fall asleep so easily, but then I don't usually stay up all night like this. I was out.

I woke up finally and had no clue where I was. I was so groggy and confused for a second, blinking, trying to figure it out. What the hell was this place? Then it all came back all at once, the memory of killing that kid slammed into me and I felt sick. Oh Jesus Christ I killed someone. I sat up and kind of rocked back and forth for a minute. I killed someone. I saw all that blood spreading beneath him, that look in his eyes when I stabbed him, the way all the others ran, they all ran…

I shuddered and kind of shook. This was just lousy. Pony was still asleep. I had to go get supplies before the story made the papers. It was warming up a little, but Pony looked sort of cold asleep on that cold floor. I took my jacket off and covered him up with it. Poor kid. He shouldn't be here. But I kind of needed him.

Unlike a lot of 16 year old boys I had grocery shopped before. See, my parents get these disability checks for being drunks, nice, right? Well, it ain't much and they usually spend it on alcohol and cigarettes, but once in a while I find some cash before they get a chance to blow it. So I'll get food.

The store out here was nothing like what we had in Tulsa. In Tulsa they watch you since so many of us steal. Not me, not ever. Dally and Two-bit steal a lot, though. It's kind of an art form with them. Steve'll steal once in a while, and Soda too just to be, like, to show he can, I guess. Pony won't, he's kind of scared and probably thinks its wrong. But this store, man, everything was just lying out in the open. I coulda walked out with half that store, someone slick like Two-bit definitely could have.


	7. Chapter 7

I started thinking people knew about it, on the way back to the church. I'm carrying this huge bag filled with all the stuff, I can barely see over it, and I see like two people and I think they must know. But they don't. It ain't in the papers yet.

We have this whistle, us and the Shepard gang, it goes low and then it's this high note. It means we're from the same area, so if you hear the whistle and answer it right then it's okay for you to be there. So I do this whistle in case Pony's awake and hears me coming and starts to worry. He has a lot of imagination, too. He'd probably imagine it's the cops coming for him.

So I whistle and he answers it and then the next thing I know he's like right under my feet and I almost trip over him.

"Hey, Johnny, fancy meeting you here," he says, reminding me of Two-bit.

"C'mon, let's get inside. Dally told us to stay inside,"

I start taking everything out of the sack and he's just watching at first. That's fine. There's nothing else to do.

" 'Gone with the Wind' ! Johnny, how'd you know I always wanted this?" he says, taking out the paperback I bought. I felt my cheeks getting red for some reason.

"Uh, I remember you said you wanted it. We went to see that movie, 'member?" I said. It wasn't a drive-in, that movie. It was in the movie theater and usually Ponyboy doesn't take anyone with him, but that one day, I don't know. What happened was my mother was screaming at me, she was all hacked off about something. I skipped school, I think it was. So what? School sucked for me and what did she care? So I took off and went to Ponyboy's house, just for somewhere to go. And it was bothering me more than usual, I guess. My mother always screaming, and I always had to run to one of their houses, Pony's or Two-bit's or wherever and it was bothering me. So I was kind of moping around his house and he offered to bring me to the movies with him. That's why we saw it, and I didn't really think I'd like it, since it was kind of old, but it was actually kind of cool.

"I thought you could read it out loud, maybe kill time or something," Here was another thing, this reading thing. He really would have to read it because every time I read the letters got all jumbled up, kind of reversed. It was because I was stupid. I hated reading out loud in class, that was the worst.

"Thanks, Johnny," he said, and he kept digging through the bag, taking out all the peanut butter and bologna and bread and cigarettes and then he got to the peroxide. He knew right away and he stared at the bottle of peroxide and then he looked up at me.

"Johnny, you ain't thinking of-"

"We got to cut our hair, and you're gonna bleach yours,"

"Uh huh, no way," he said, shaking his head and backing away from me.

"I'm gonna cut mine, too, and wash out all the grease-"

"No, sir, you ain't cutting my hair,"

It went around and around, this argument, but it didn't matter. This was what we were gonna do, whether he liked it or not. It was our looks or us.

So I flipped out my switch blade and sawed off his hair and bleached it. He could go blond, he was light skinned enough. I could never go blond, it wouldn't look right. He sat out in the sun to let it dry and I couldn't believe it. His hair was so blond, and so short. He looked so different. I guessed we both would.


	8. Chapter 8

"Be nice," I told him, but he was pretty pissed off at me for hacking off all his hair. It used to look so tuff, him and Soda had the best hair in the neighborhood. And he wasn't nice. He grabbed a bunch of my hair and starting sawing through it, and I gritted my teeth against the pain.

"Hurts, don't it?" he said with this kind of happiness about it.

"Yeah, yeah," I said, and closed my eyes while he sawed off another chunk of my hair. My hair wasn't as good as his and Soda's, but it was jet black so it looked pretty cool with the grease in it. Now I'd look like a square, a soc. But I still had my torn up clothes and jean jacket, I'd never look like a soc.

"I didn't cut yours that short," I told him after he'd sawed off a handful of my hair almost right to my scalp.

"It was your idea, smarty," he said, but he kind of let up. I wasn't looking forward to washing my hair in that freezing pump but I had no choice.

The water came out of that spout and it was so cold I felt numb. I washed the grease out with the bar of soap I got, and it took forever. I put a lot of grease in my hair. My teeth were chattering as the cold water poured over my head, and then I couldn't stand it anymore. I thought I got most of the grease out, anyway. But I had to stop.

"Jesus, Johnny, you're gonna die of pneumonia," Pony said, watching me shiver in the sun, and he got Dally's heavy leather jacket and put it across my shoulders. I would have thanked him but I couldn't talk through my chattering teeth.

My hair was so short that it didn't take long to dry. Ponyboy was eating all the candy bars I bought, but that was okay. I wasn't hungry, anyway. It was getting dark.

Inside the church it was darker, and I gave him back Dally's jacket cause I saw he was getting cold. I told him about the store with everything hanging out in the open, I told him how Two-bit could have walked out with half the store.

"Good old Two-bit," I said, kind of thinking I might never see him again. I didn't want to really think too far ahead, but what the hell was going to happen? We couldn't stay here forever. Maybe Dally could find us some other place to go, or maybe the cops would find us and I'd end up in jail, and I shuddered at the thought of that. Cops, jail, that would be awful, but I did deserve it. Of course I did. I killed somebody.

Pony was talking about last night, saying just last night we were at the movies and Two-bit was wisecracking, and we were looking up at the stars in the lot. I couldn't take it. I closed my eyes and pulled away from him.

"Stop it! Shut up about last night! I killed a kid last night, he couldn't have been more than 17 or 18 and I killed him! How'd you like to live with that?"

Now he was crying and looking up at me with his tear streaked face.

"Johnny-"

"I mean, he was drowning you, he might have killed you and I didn't know what to do," I said, sitting on one of the pews. Pony came over to me, put his arm around me, still crying. I might have been crying, too.

"There sure is a lot of blood in people," I said, and I didn't even have to close my eyes to see it, I could see that blood spreading underneath that kid all the time. This was terrible. I closed my eyes and put my head in my hands. I've basically ruined everything, my life, Pony's life, Dally's. That kid I killed, I mean, his parents and all, his friends…And then there was Darry and Soda worrying about Ponyboy. They got all worried when he was just a few hours late, what would they be thinking now? I couldn't believe I even brought him, what in the hell was I thinking? Dally coulda went with me, maybe. At least no one would miss him.


End file.
